Coming To The Rogue Isles
by Miss Thorn
Summary: The life of a fierce fire/fire brute and her family.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N)Thanks to my lovely beta Esme's Favorite Daughter.**

Chapter 1

The walls of the prison were cold and damp, the bricks actually slimy to the touch. Sintara imagined that they were crawling with bacteria. And fungus, there had to be a huge amount in the freezing hell she was trapped in; it just wasn't warm enough to kill any creepy crawlies.

And she hated being cold.

Through the small peep hole in the steel door of her cell she was able to see the guard station, a small room that was flooded with light. And most likely heat. The four guards on duty certainly didn't look cold.

She paced the small room, more in an effort to keep warm than out of boredom. Her feet were bare, they allowed her to have big woolly socks, but no shoes, she guessed that the floor wasn't much cleaner than the walls.

She'd been allowed to keep her her long black coat, it helped to keep her a little warmer. Although they _could_ have allowed her to change into pants, her skirt was not nearly warm enough for this hell. But it sure showed off her legs.

One of the guards shifted in the big cozy desk chairs. His round paunch rubbed against the desk making a squeaking sound as the cheap material of his uniform rubbed against the wood.

Fools. They were all fools. Maybe they had her now, but she would get out. She always did. Jails were nasty, vile places, and she never stayed long.

The problem was the new king. He was not _at all_ tolerant of her people. The Fire Masters had been around long before the kingdom he now ruled had been invented. Her great, great grandmother had been one of the original rulers of the Desert Region.

And look at her family now.

Reduced to common criminals, hiding and stealing to survive. It was little wonder that so few were left. She was the last elder of her people, and at 28 that was a real accomplishment.

All thanks to the Order of the Ice.

She had never personally done anything to anyone in the Order. She had only met one, a young girl, about six years ago, but the meeting had been ultra brief. The girl had been whisked away before the nasty Fire Master could eat her.

Sintara snorted. Her people had never started the war. They were just bad at public relations.

The Ice Lord was a different people person. Tall and blond, he had women swooning at his feet. His smile, however, never reached his eyes. Sintara was not fooled. He was just another snake with pretty words and nice teeth.

The heavy guard shifted again, and stuffed a hunk of something that looked sweet and full of calories in his mouth.

She shook her head in disgust. She didn't have the luxury of cakes and cookies. She fought for every thing she and her siblings ate. She had given up farming, the land was too dry and without the co-operation of the Order nothing would ever grow there again.

She hadn't wanted to become a thief, it had never been the plan. She had grown up wanting only to marry a nice man and have a nice clean house. Now she was leaning to control the powers that had condemned her to this life to begin with.

Powers that were being blocked by the slimy walls of her jail.

All she needed was one spark. And she would be in business.

She eyed the sagging cot on the far wall. She was not sleeping on that. The covers were moving, on their own.

With a little shudder, she peered out the little hole in the cell door again.

One of the guards, a rather nice looking man with huge shoulders, left the guard station and strode down the hall. His back was as nice as his front.

She started to move away from the cold steel door when the heavy guard reached into his pocket. And pulled out a slim cigar.

Every thing in her stilled. Light it, she prayed. Light the damn thing!

He did.

The power of the flames flooded her entire being. From her frozen feet to her blue finger tips. She was warm, and she was pissed.

The door exploded with a huge scream of rending metal. The twisted corpse of the door landed two feet from the guard.

She was very pleased to see that his lap was damp.

Moving as fast as her slippery socks would allow, she headed for the outer wall of the jail. She was getting out. Going home. And then, she was leaving the damn planet. The Ice Lord could go to hell, and she really hoped to be the one to send him there.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N)Thanks to my lovely beta Esme's Favorite Daughter.**

Chapter 2

Home sweet home. If one could call a mud hut with only one fire pit home. Sintara stared at the yard. At one time there had been grass and a lovely rose garden. _Before_ the Order had decided to declare the Fire Masters a criminal race.

The last of their hens scratched at the dirt in a futile attempt to find a scrap of food. Sintara understood how the hen felt. Desperate. Desperate to survive, to save her family any way she could.

"Sintara!" The grass door of the hut flew open and a flurry of legs and overly bright red hair exploded into the yard.

"Sindie," Sintara didn't bother to hide her smile, her little sister never walked any where, she flew.

"Sinsear told me you were in jail!" Sindie darted across the dirt, her ten year old legs a blur of motion.

And she had been, but that was something no ten year old should know about.

"And just where is Sinsear now?"

"Trying to get us dinner." Sindie looked down at her bare feet.

Sintara understood. Her younger brother was stealing from the farm next door.

It was a fact of life. A nasty fact, but none the less the truth of the situation. Their people were out laws, common criminals, that were slowly being sent to various prison camps in the solar system. Many of their kind had been executed, based on race alone. Sintara's parents had been among those killed for being Fire Masters. She was fairly positive that her siblings and herself were that last of their kind left on the planet. Maybe the last of their kind period.

"He's only been gone an hour," Sindie drew in the dust with her big toe, "He promised to be back before dark." Sintara considered the last hen, her family needed to eat more than they need the pet.

"There he is." Sindie pointed a dirty finger at the horizon.

Sinsear was walking slowly, dragging a sack. A very flat empty looking sack.

"Sintara," Her twenty year old brother attempted a smile and failed miserably. Good-bye hen, Sintara thought as she watched her brother trudge into the yard.

The hollow look to her siblings eyes made her ache deep inside her chest. They didn't deserve this life. Perhaps she did, her crimes far greater, but her brother and sister did not need this life. Going to bed hungry, stealing day old bread, wishing on things that could never be.

Enough was enough. "Sinsear, didn't you once say that there are shuttles traveling to the new galaxy?"

Sinsear nodded, his orange hair falling into his eyes. "The Milky Way. It's light years away, I'm not even sure how much something like that will cost." Meaning, they could never afford tickets. Good thing she didn't plan on buying them.

"We need a fresh start. The Milky Way has to be a better place." The Ice Lord hadn't taken hold of that world yet.

"But how?" Sindie bounced on the balls of her feet. "We can't even afford food!"

Sintara stared off into the horizon Night was drifting down, casting the world into shadow. "Well, we can start by traveling to the Crown."

Sinsear nodded. "That's where most of the shuttles are. We could probably walk there by tomorrow."

They would never make it. Walking to the city meant instant death. The Ice Lord's guards would have an easy time of arresting all of them and ending the race once and for all.

"We can't walk there." Sintara pushed her hair out of her eyes, when had she last had it cut? Styled?

"And mother isn't here to teach us to use our powers." Sinsear tossed the bag across the yard with as much force as possible. "We can't even fly!"

Their mother had been a master of the flames. She had been able to fly, to toss huge fireballs into the air. She had been both a leader and a teacher of their people.

And had been shot out of the air by a passing ice tank.

"We can fly, mother could and I see no reason why we can not." Sintara shifted her weight from foot to foot, she really needed new boots.

The truth of the matter was, she could not fly. She had tried. Time after time she had awakened the fire in her soul and asked for flight. And time after time she had landed in the dirt with an embarrassing thump.

But if she could get Sinsear and Sindie to fly, they could escape. They could leave the solar system and start over fresh somewhere else. They would have a life, food, and a real home with real beds.

"Mother could do it. So can you." Sintara nodded until her head ached.

"Father could not." Sinsear crossed his arms and scowled.

"Father was a warrior, they cannot fly." Sintara swallowed, her father had been the last warrior of the Fire Masters. The last with the ability to use fire in combat, a skill that was more prized than their mother's healing skills. Warriors were the heart of the Fire Masters. And he had died as he had lived. In battle.

"I would like to fly," Sindie stared at the dark starless sky. "Mother must have loved it. Being so high above the ground, soaring like a bird."

Sindie had only been a few days old when the Ice Lord had ordered all of the Fire Masters destroyed. At eighteen Sintara had started her training and had barely escaped death with her ten year old brother and baby sister. They had been living in the desert ever since.

"Father could not fly." Sinsear repeated. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth set in the firm line that meant he was not willing to compromise.

"I"m going to try." Sindie nodded.

Sintara smiled, her little sister rarely let the word no stop her.

Hopefully that would ensure her sisters' survival in the new world.


End file.
